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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817336">Delicious Autumn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyemers/pseuds/Lucyemers'>Lucyemers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Turn (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autumn, Camping, Huddling For Warmth, Knitting, M/M, Pumpkin Spice, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:55:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyemers/pseuds/Lucyemers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A few (somewhat belated) Autumnal ficlets.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Turn of the Seasons: Fall 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. September: Pumpkin Spice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apfelessig/gifts">Apfelessig</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Apfelessig who inspired me to write modern AU for these two!</p>
<p>With many thanks to ASheepsLIfe for generous beta reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ben's coffee routine is nearly a holy ritual. Locally roasted beans, artisan French press, no milk. Sipped  reverently while reading a print copy of the Washington Post. It’s September 1st when the offending bottle appears in the fridge. He almost never sees his best friend and roommate due to Caleb’s working odd hours, but he sees his trappings all over. And this trapping makes him smile. Caleb’s only just managed to wait until a properly autumnal month to indulge, and Ben finds this just as endearing as Caleb’s pumpkin spice addiction itself. He vows to tease him relentlessly when he sees him next. But when Caleb unceremoniously and without knocking wakes him a week later, pushing the hot mug into Ben’s hands and saying “Finally made it home before you left. Like hell I’m gonna let you knock it without trying it.” Ben feels...oddly charmed. He sits up, takes a sip and finds that it’s Caleb all over- immediately likable, and the literal and figurative sweetness of this steaming cup of coffee is leaving Ben a bit dumbstruck. <br/>“Shite, I stink though, I gotta hit the shower.” <br/>Caleb heads out the door, shouting behind him as he goes, “But you taste that and tell me it’s not the sheer embodiment of happiness in your mouth.” Ben hears him pause just outside the door, realise what he’s said, and laugh uproariously before sticking his head around back inside and winking, “you’re welcome!” <br/>“You’re such an arsehole,” Ben groans, inwardly cursing his rapidly blushing face.<br/>“Only to my friends. Seriously Benny, don’t let it get cold.” He smiles in earnest before hurrying off, already returning to his usual state of perpetual motion. Ben sips the cloyingly sweet coffee and smiles.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. October: Knitting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s nearly midnight when Ben finally gets home from work. He’s looking forward to ordering in, taking a shower and possibly reading a book in absolute silence. But he opens the apartment door to hear hockey blaring, and Caleb, mid yell, gesticulating wildly at the television with a Sam Adams Oktoberfest.<br/>“Is there anything flowing through your veins besides pumpkin these days?”<br/>Caleb, still very engaged with the game, waves Ben off distractedly muttering, “Ah, I had a whisky before this.” The game cuts to a commercial and Caleb mutes the tv, taking a long swig of beer. <br/>Ben, grateful for the silence, sits on the couch, letting his head tip back and rubbing his eyes. “I thought you were working tonight.” <br/>“No shipments, no work. No work, no pay. But que sera, eh?” He flops down beside Ben before immediately jumping back up. “Oi! Ben!” <br/>“What?”<br/>He grabs Ben by the shoulders, hauling him to his feet. And it appears that Ben had been sitting on the edge of a scarf. Caleb retrieves the scarf, cradling it delicately, and sits. That's when Ben notices there are knitting needles attached.<br/>"Dammit, dropped a stitch. In the future I would appreciate it if you wouldn't plant your ass on my handiwork."<br/>"I don't think I knew you had...handiwork."<br/>Ben sits, cautiously this time, wondering if Caleb has macrame tucked away in the love seat or needlepoint in the futon. <br/>"Didn't I ever tell you? Ah, well, you know, full of surprises, me."<br/>Ben feels the corner of his mouth quirk up a bit. He’s exhausted and he could stop the conversation here, scroll mindlessly on his phone and enjoy Caleb’s company next to him until he can’t keep his eyes open, but curiosity spurs him on. He’s always so bemused when he unearths something about Caleb that he didn’t already know. <br/>“How did you learn?”<br/>Caleb grins but his eyes are far away. <br/>“My uncle.” <br/>Ah. So there’s the source of the sadness. Caleb doesn’t speak about his uncle much, but these omissions speak volumes about all the love that Caleb had for him.<br/>He stops, moves the knitting to one hand in a practiced movement, and takes another long drink.<br/>“He taught me. My aunt taught him. She loved it but she couldn’t do it often you know, when her arthritis was bad, so he learned, just to finish off the projects she’d started. But then, he found out he had the knack. And he really liked it.”<br/>“And so do you.”<br/>“Well yeah, I do. It’s soothing, you know.”<br/>The commercial break is over and Caleb’s eyes are fixed on the game. But his fingers are stitching again. He doesn’t need to look down and watch his hands. They know what to do on their own. <br/>Ben sits up and focuses on the back and forth of the needles. “You make it look so easy.” <br/>“Not so easy when you first start”, Caleb mutters before exploding in a fit of outrage, shoving the needles and scarf into Ben’s hands and slamming the bottle on the table. He turns off the tv and disappears into the kitchen with, “I need another drink. This ref is shite.”<br/>Ben has always been one for figuring out how things work so in spite of himself he is examining the intricate stitches and the way they hook together row after row. The needles feel awkward in his hands and he starts to wiggle them back and forth a bit, wondering how one would manage to maneuver them as gracefully as Caleb did. </p>
<p>“Eh, Benny Boy, it suits you.” </p>
<p>Ben looks up and feels his cheeks start to redden as if he’s been caught in some sort of private act.</p>
<p>“But that’s not quite how it’s done.” Caleb’s eyes are laughing. “You know, though. I’ve got some extras--hold that thought.”</p>
<p>Ben starts to protest but Caleb is off to his room and back before he can put up much of a fight.</p>
<p>He returns with two plastic knitting needles and a deep navy blue yarn. He sits exceedingly close to Ben and is about to hand over the empty needles before reconsidering. “You ain't quite ready for casting on...hang on”, and Caleb begins the process of what is apparently “casting on”. The phrase puts Ben in mind of casting a line in fishing - a past time Caleb adores.<br/>Ben doesn’t remember much from the few times he has been dragged along - just bleary-eyed early mornings and mind-numbing boredom and the way Caleb, silently and gracefully, rears back and casts the line into the water. </p>
<p>Caleb holds out one of the needles, now covered in stitches. “Hold this one in your left hand.” He hands him an empty needle. “Hold this in your right.” And Ben begins a clunky attempt at making the needles, and his hands, do as they are told. He manages three stitches before he starts to drop them. </p>
<p>“You can’t hold the needles so far down. Hold them farther up so you have more control. And try holding the yarn gently under the last two fingers of your right hand. No--not quite like--”</p>
<p>Ben just barely manages two more stitches. “Alright that was sheer luck.” Caleb concludes. <br/>“But you’re making it harder than it needs to be just--let me show you.” He scoots even closer so they are hip to hip, knee to knee. And Ben moves to hand over the needles but Caleb shakes his head briefly and instead wraps his hands around Ben’s. He coaxes them higher up the needles and threads the yarn through the last two fingers of Ben’s right hand just as he had said. Then he gives Ben’s hands a small squeeze before letting them go. Before Ben proceeds, he can’t help it--he considers for just a moment how to drop a few more stitches, how to lose his grip on the needles, how to proceed so that he might be shown in just that way again what his hands need to do. And then the thought is gone, or at least pushed to the back of his mind. But he won't deny that the almost certain possibility of more mistakes coming doesn't make his heart quicken a bit in anticipation. .</p>
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